The Story Within
by A.K. Prince
Summary: A young girl must learn to love a powerful man and mend his heart. Did her sister's rejection leave him heartless or can he be saved by the girl with the white eyes that capture his attention so?
1. My Story Within

To every story there is another story within. Every character in every story has a different view of the happenings of the entire tale. Although many stories are never told, mine will be. I am the sister of the champion of the Labyrinth. I'm sure you've heard of the infamous Sarah Williams, no? I thought so. She is my elder sister.

Before you ask and wonder as to anything I may know of my sister's adventure, I must inform you of the lack of extraordinary knowledge of her travels – in other words, I only know as much as the next person. Sarah is my half sister, and no, she didn't like me any more than she did Toby.

Lucky for me, I wasn't as much a screamer as he was. I was never wished away, in fact, I rarely saw my sister. I lived with our mother and my father while she lived with her dad and her step-mother. We only got to see each other when she came over (Our mother wouldn't let me visit them because she hated Sarah's dad). My life was always rather bland because mother and father were almost always shooting a movie, you see, both of my parents are actors, and they're always busy. I was raised by numerous Nannies and our Butler, Howard.

My father's name is Abner Morgan, but when mother isn't around, he demands that I call him 'Sir' or 'Master.' I don't like him; most people don't actually. He is egotistical, snobbish, and extremely vain – although he has nothing to be vain of. In my opinion, he's actually a rather ugly man. He has short, dark hair that glistens with sweat and grease. His nose looks as if it used to be straight, but, somehow, it got slammed into his face so hard that the tip points down and isn't much thinner than the bridge of his nose. His lips are generally large for a man and it looks very unattractive. Sometimes, I wonder if mother is a gold digger or unbelievably in love.

Mother and Sarah almost look like twins; they have long dark brown hair, slightly tanned skin, bright green eyes and are fairly tall. I don't know what happened to me. The only thing I must have gotten from mother was my nicely curved body. Sarah got that a little bit but I got the full affects of that gene. Mother must be ashamed of the way I look because she always tries to get me to dye my hair, wear colored contact lenses, and get a tan.

Mother and Father used to take me to the doctors because of how I looked. I was a freak of nature. I was almost like an albino but not quite. I've always had white hair and irises. I also have fair skin with a slight pink tint in my cheeks as if I'm eternally blushing lightly. I don't look like anyone in my immediate family but mother says that her mother's cousins had white irises and father's sister had extremely blonde hair (although it isn't white).

Mother hardly ever looks at me because of it and father hates me for it. I am an outcast in the place that is supposed to be my home. School was never too difficult for me. I didn't have friends, enemies, lab partners, or anyone who even seemed to notice me. I never went to parties, dances, field trips, or other friendly gatherings. I went to school, sat through the lessons, took notes, did my work, went home, did my homework, and did it again the next day.

I never had anyone to talk to; nannies gossip, mother and father hated me, my sister was never around, I had no friends, and Howard was always busy doing whatever it is that butlers actually do. I didn't have anyone to tell about my problems or dreams; I didn't have anyone to tell my story to – not until people stopped to listen; not until now.


	2. Fate's sense of humor

My head hurt; it hurt so bad I couldn't think or walk straight. Mother gave me some kind of headache medicine and locked herself in her personal library to read, drink tea, and nap. Thanks mother. Father was away in California shooting another movie, that I'd never want to watch, and sleeping with whatever trash he could get his hands on.

Mother and I both knew about this; it was all over the papers and the news for several months a year ago. To numb herself of the hurt this caused her, mother started shutting herself off from the rest of the world. I didn't mind as long as I didn't need her to sign any papers for school and so far, so good.

I was used to being alone. I ate dinner alone, I star gazed alone, I fantasized alone, and I lived alone. I was a lone being and I desired nothing more and nothing less. Truthfully, I didn't reflect on it much; it was normal for me to not speak to anyone and not have anyone bothering me with nonsense I didn't care about.

I wouldn't say I was happy or upset – it was more like I was content or bored. I rarely smiled, frowned, laughed, or raised my voice. I hardly ever even used my voice. I sang softly to myself sometimes; it was my way of 'talking about it' when I had any problems.

As I lie there on the loveseat in my room, I waited for my sister to call and cancel her visit . . . again. She'd been doing it for some time now. At first, it hurt my feelings that my sister was too busy to come around and see me, but I eventually grew to understand that being a teacher's assistant and attempting to write a book was something that kept you busy.

The earsplitting shrieks of the phone caused the throbbing in my head to increase and my eyes to water. I picked it up quickly to stop the searing pain. "Morgan residence, Finola speaking." I said into the phone.

"Hey, Finola! How's it going?" Sarah's voice said from the other end of the line.

"Fine," I replied simply, my head still throbbing profusely.

"Okay," she sounded disappointed that I didn't indulge her on every aspect of my life. "I was just calling to see if you guys were too busy for me to come over or if everything was still on."

I sighed softly, "Just waiting for you," I said.

"Oh, okay!" her enthusiasm was one of the few things that put a real smile on my face. "I'll head over right now. Traffic isn't too bad so I should be there in about forty-five minutes."

"See you when you get here then."

"Alright! See you in a bit, bye!" she almost shouted into the phone.

The smile left my face and my head felt like it would crumble from the violent throbbing, "Bye," I said weakly before hanging up.

Forty-five minutes. Too much time to do nothing, and not enough time to do much of anything. I made my way down the stairs to the lobby where Howard would undoubtedly be lounging around. My bare feet stepped delicately across the cream colored carpeting of the hallways as I adjusted the folding of my long sleeves to look casual and nice mid-arm.

A devious smirk found its way onto my face as I neared the lobby and heard Howard's unmistakable, monstrous snoring. I stopped at the open doorway of the dimly lit room, placed my hands on my hips, and leaned most of my weight on my right leg. The overall pose was a cross between the sass of a teenage girl and the dominance of a queen which was only magnified when I cleared my throat loudly.

I was never really good at pranks. It usually turned out badly for me whether that meant punishments, plans backfiring, or, on occasion, both. This particular one was no different; Howard flew out of the chair he'd fallen asleep in, which caused it to fall backwards and knock an end table over.

When the silver haired older man regained his footing and stood straight up like I usually saw him, he turned his attention to the doorway I stood under. Upon seeing me stand there with an amused smirk on my face, he went to sit back down; only to drop to the ground as his previous seating arrangement had been thrown back only moments before.

He grunted in discomfort as he attempted to stand once more. I giggled lightly and entered the room to help him to his feet. I held my hand out to him for only a moment before he placed his cold one in it. I lifted him up using all of my strength to do so.

"Hello, Howard." I greeted him. I merely received a noncommittal grunt in return. I giggled again, a little louder this time, "I'm sorry, Howard; I just couldn't resist."

He glared at me but I could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and the youthful twinkle in his eyes. My giggles became a soft laughter and I soon had him joining me as we relaxed and enjoyed each other's company. When our laughing began to subside, Howard looked back to the chair and almost started up again, "Let's get this mess cleaned up before your sister gets here or your mother finds it is such a state."

I nodded and we got to work picking the table and chair back up and placing them in there designated places. When we finished, we sat down and began small talk about the weather, school, money, government stuff, and other boring things butlers and seventeen year olds could possibly think to talk about together.

The time went by fairly quickly and soon enough, my sister had arrived. She joined us in the lobby and we talked for an hour of two.

"Where's Mom?" Sarah asked me quietly as Howard had fallen back to sleep in the chair.

I shook my head in slight annoyance at mother's behavior, "Locked up in her personal library."

"Figures; I read about Abner's affairs when he's away shooting movies." She seemed as disappointed in mother and father as I was.

"Yeah, she's always depressed but whenever he's away it increases ten-fold." I lowered my eyes in embarrassment at the behaviors of mother and father.

They weren't my parents anymore. They were the people that owned the house I was forced to stay in until I was eighteen, paid the bills, and came around to make sure I was still alive once in a while. They were more like prison wardens than parents. Mother was Sarah's mom, not mine.

Sarah was the only family I had; she was the only one besides Howard that accepted me the way I was. Around them, I felt normal. They were safe; my only friends.

Sarah sighed heavily and suddenly looked so tired she may collapse at any moment. "Finola, we need to talk." I nodded for her to continue, my face now concerned, "I'm not feeling very well."

I had a horrid feeling begin to form in the pit of my stomach as I thought about what could possibly be wrong with my beautiful, young, elder sister. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I asked, "Do you need something? Medications? Money? Anything?" it all came out so quickly I was surprised she understood any of it at all.

"No. I've been building up immunity to the medications that are supposed to help me." She paused for a long moment to find the right words for what she wanted to tell me.

"Supposed to? You're getting better, right?" I asked frantically, grasping at non existent straws.

"Finola, I won't be getting better. There is no cure to what I have; they don't even know what it is. I am going to die." She said slowly, each word another blow to my heart and soul. My head didn't hurt anymore; it no longer had the capability to ruin my day.

I don't remember much of the rest of that evening do to the fact that I was is such a stupor. What I can somewhat recall is eating dinner with my sister, listening to her ramblings about her life, and falling asleep that night with stale and fresh tears trekked across my now sickly pale face. My sister was dying. She was my sister and whatever supernatural powers that supposedly controlled our lives were going to rip her away from me. Fate really had a sick sense of humor.


End file.
